Happy Mother’s Day!  I spoke to my mom and my grandma on the phone today and longed to be with them so we could share coffee and memories and prayers – I’m blessed to come from a line of bold, faithful, nurturing women.  Virtual hugs were exchanged with Shane’s parents tonight via Facetime and I was reminded of my mother-in-law’s incredible warm-heartedness as she cooed and laughed with Juliette.  The moms in my life have given me so much to live up to.
This is the first year I’m part of the celebrated demographic, and as I read my Facebook well-wishes and ate my French toast and snuggled with Jules, my head reeled with the still-sinking-in reality that I’m a mom.  After all those childhood years I spent changing diapers on my Betsy Wetsy doll, after all those adolescent prayers for my future husband and children (no joke!), after our long and difficult period of infertility, I’m now mama.
I’ve wondered if I have the drive or the skill set to be an architect; I’ve questioned if I’m creative enough to be an artist; I’ve wandered down dimly lit paths of self-doubt as I asked myself what I could or should or want to be.  But from the moment Juliette was placed in my arms, motherhood felt so wonderfully right on me.  Even in the midst of utter exhaustion, heart-wrenching worry, complete vulnerability, I’ve found some of the deepest, truest joy I’ve ever known – loving and caring for that little girl is my best, most fulfilling work.  Even the small stuff buoys me with pride and satisfaction – a fridge well-stocked with freshly puréed baby food, a rocking session and perfect arms-to-crib transfer after an inexplicable fit of 3 am wailing, a blow-out of a diaper after three days of coaxing our constipated baby to please just push it out. Plus the chest nuzzles and the two-toothed smiles and the exciting moments when something new is learned or discovered – this gig is good. I could do without the mountains of sweet-potato-smeared laundry, but other than that, I’m livin’ the dream.
And today was extra-dreamy: a sleep-in and homemade breakfast courtesy of Shane; an afternoon filled with sun, swings, baseball and boba; post-bath giggles as I kissed Juliette’s squishy thighs…I don’t know that Happy Mother’s Day even captures it.
